


At the Start of the Universe

by IAmAllYetNotAtAll



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF!Peter, Endgame Fix-It, F/M, Gen, Irondad, Peter Parker is an angel but like seriously, Peter won't let Tony die on his watch, Random plotbunny, Some Peter reflecting on Tony's life as an outsider too, Soulmate-esque, and Supernatural a bit for angel details, i dunno man, of sorts, some inspiration from Good Omens, spiderson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-17 12:10:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20620811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmAllYetNotAtAll/pseuds/IAmAllYetNotAtAll
Summary: When the universe began, there was nothing, and then there were angels.At the dawn of time, the angel Peter sees the life-to-be of one Tony Stark and tells himself he won't let him die, even if he has to wait millions of years for him to be born in the first place.Queue: Irondad. Peter being an all-powerful literal Angel of the Lord, and not letting Thanos kill his favourite human.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So. Weird plot? Yes. Short-ish story? Yes, 10K-ish words I think. Me still projecting my anger against Endgame and Tony's death five months later? Very much yes. Completely self-indulgent? Alsoooo yes.
> 
> Sort of has a plot, sort of has a bit of development. Please enjoy...?
> 
> Disclaimer: took the idea of angels creating planets and such from Good Omens, as well as some of their behaviours. Took the idea of angels having a 'grace' from Supernatural. Using the archangels as angels and that's from general angel-knowledge but also those two shows.
> 
> Huge shoutout to the two people who let me use them as a sounding board for this story!!! I had a couple of ways I wanted to story to go and it was a unanimous decision for BAMF!Peter but also Fluff so enjoy :)

The Universe starts out as nothing.

**\-----**

_"Hey, Morrie, did I ever tell you what the start of the universe was like?"_

_"No. The world started with dinosaurs, right?"_

_"The earth certainly had dinosaurs at one point, but that wasn't the beginning."_

_"What's the beginning? A hundred years ago? No no... A thousand!"_

_A laugh._

_"Not quite. A little more like millions, munchkin."_

_"That's a big number."_

_"It really is. And at the start... there was nothing."_

**\-----**

When his being flickers into existence by God's will, he opens what would later become eyes and sees little other than darkness. His form is made up of a cluster of subatomic particles making up a few atoms; the essence of the angels is called their grace. It's the source of their strength and magic and divinity.

His form spins in place in search of something. Anything. He is small enough to see the atoms and can see them vibrate around him.

His brain, or the brain of his parts, knows his duties, knows the job handed down to him.

Create.

There are wispy white clusters in the distance, his siblings, if they can be referred to as such. God's other children; God's first children. The angels, beings will later call them.

For now, they are children given a universe to play with.

The clusters are putting atoms together, wrangling in shadows and pouring light out of their shapes until the pieces come together. When one is finished, the angel pushes it away into the void where it will become something. This is their task. Create the universe, create the base. Only God can create life, but they exist to make homes for that life.

He is an angel too, only much younger than the rest. Nothing of him makes sense yet; he has no power, no senses. He's waking and watching.

There's a star. A moon.

A sister puts in light and shadows and moves and spins the mass and something comes out called gas. It will be uninhabitable, but it will be beautiful to look at. She pushes it away, let's it float to its own galaxy.

**\-----**

_"And then there was everything. The angels built the stars and the planets and the moons. They mixed shadows and light to make water and oxygen. The put the atoms together in any which way. Just like your toys."_

_Two legos click together._

_"The universe is made of building blocks. Put this and this together, and suddenly there's a tree, or a mineral, or an element." A container filled with multi-coloured plastic bits is shaken, "The angels looked at the universe and saw this. They took what they thought they needed and made a world they hoped God would be proud of."_

_"Can we take apart the universe like with the legos?"_

_"Some people try, but they'll never succeed. The angels are excellent builders, after all. Do you think anyone can take one of your father's inventions and tear them down?"_

_"Of course not! He's the best inventor ever."_

_"Exactly."_

**\-----**

It takes a long time for him to gather his energy. He spins in place, watching and waiting.

Then there are the nerves. He doesn't know what else to call it when he thinks back on those moments. He's struck frozen by fear, by anxiety. His siblings have been creating galaxies for so long, what if he isn't good enough? What if he fails? What if the moon he makes crumbles in his hands?

His siblings pass him by, but none will stop to speak with him. It's not language, not yet, but they can feel each other, know each other's thoughts. They're all too busy building the universe to care about his feelings.

He moves, finally.

He reaches out and one of the atoms that make up his being touches one hanging in the void in front of him and...

**\-----**

_A slowing heartbeat._

_A flash of white light._

_"I am... Ironman!"_

_A fight for the universe._

_A daughter, a wife. A little cabin in the forest._

_"I... I don't want to go..."_

_More fights. The Avengers. Steve Rogers. A battle in Germany. A battle in Sokovia. A battle in New York._

_"Tears for your long lost boss?"_

_Missiles and weapons. Years and years of booze and woman and drugs and trying not to break. A reliable best friend._

_A dead father, a dead mother. A dead butler._

_College and high school, not long enough to grow up._

_"He never told me he loved me, he never even told me he liked me."_

_"Get that boy out of here, Jarvis!"_

_A little boy, curious and brilliant, searching to please but meeting resistance._

_A baby, crying and bloody. Newborn. The paper is signed, 'Anthony Edward Stark'._

\-----

He draws back.

That's life. This one little atom is going to become life one day. Suddenly everything in him is energized, ready to begin.

The world is going to be beautiful.

He moves and as he glides along with the atoms, what they will be appears in his mind like a vision. He wills the atoms to move, to gather together in clusters. His light, coming from his angelic being and grace, flows from him into his creation. He makes water. Dirt. Sand. Oxygen. Gas.

In his corner of the universe, he makes only one thing.

The planet will later be called Earth, or Terra, by some, and it's smaller than others and newer and younger and not as ready, but it's his favourite.

He's proud of his creation and hopes that God will bless it with life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Putting up the second chappie right away since the first one's a prologue-ey esque thing.
> 
> Also 3 1/2 chappies done, just sort of wrapping up.
> 
> Cheers.

The universe grows and expands and the angels are no longer needed.

Life is spread far and wide and the creatures will grow and evolve on their own.

They are given their own home in a little space pocket that some call heaven. They watch over the dead souls and ensure their happiness. They're expressly told not to interfere with any threats outside of their home and only watch as wars rage on. It's the people's duty to protect themselves. Most of the angels don't seem to care; they keep to themselves and hardly look down at the worlds they've created.

The young angel finds the creatures fascinating. He mostly keeps an eye on his own planet, but he'll wander and learn and observe.

He's chosen to take on the name Peter. Something draws him to it, though it's strange thinking that Tony will mentor a young child with the same name. The angels slowly adapt to the concept of speech and languages, and they take on names and shapes and forms similar to the people they like most.

Sister Annael prefers the tree-like people called X'an and has a floral build, her arms made of bark and flowers growing where there could be hair. Peter prefers his Terrans and takes on their shape.

As the century and millennia pass, there's one thing on Peter's mind. Always, never wavering, never forgotten.

He has seen countless battles, even inter-galactic ones where one planet destroys another and has seen race-ending genocides and more death than he cares to count. Being an immortal creature whose sole duty is to observe, means they see the worst and are unable to do much else.

Answer a prayer here and there... fulfill a wish... give someone a bit of hope...

It's a fine line between what they can and can't do, and no one bothers to teeter on it.

Except for Peter, who's received enough stern warnings about getting involved to have learned how to be sneaky about it.

The one thing that Peter can't forget or move passed is that one life. Anthony Edward Stark.

In those few seconds, he'd seen his life from its ending to its beginning and he thinks about it.

The boy that cries in his room when there's no one to hear. The teenager surrounded by adults who seem to think him mature enough to make life choices. The young man with no direction. The man who becomes a superhero because he thinks there's no other option. The hero who gives his life to save the universe.

The inventor that built the Ironman suit and the one that discovers a new element and creates a miniature arc reactor.

Peter finds him both fascinating and admirable.

Should he be as intrigued by Archimedes or Tesla or Da Vinci?

Probably, yes.

But his life is entwined with Tony Stark's; he's touched his soul, his very being. There is something deep in him that's drawn to him, enamoured by his very existence.

And honestly, he finds himself inspired by him.

He takes heaven and makes it into something bigger and better. He takes the idea of the arc reactor and makes them an energy source; they may have magic but it's not endless. He computerizes the way they organize the sub-pockets where they store their souls, he visits the children who lost their lives too young and imagines all sorts of creations with them. From flying vehicles to a device to visit the bottom of the oceans.

His siblings... are not overly fond of him. Some of them will smile and humour him, but mostly he's ignored or overlooked. They let him do his thing, since he actually does know what he's doing, but there's no thank you and no enthusiasm.

"Maybe Father should have stopped one angel short..." one of his brother's say.

He may have filled the main meeting room with smoke, but that was an unfortunate accident and there's no reason for rudeness.

It doesn't matter, he tells himself.

He watches his earthlings and looks over their lives and thinks of the things Tony Stark could accomplish in just one human lifetime.

Then there's the birth of Howard Stark and he knows that his son will arrive not much later.

Time often seems like a debatable concept when you're an immortal being. What are seconds or minutes when billions have gone by in one lifetime? Peter feels like he's only blinked and Howard Stark is joining his wife at the hospital and holding his newborn son for the very first time.

As much as interfering is frowned upon, the angels will often visit various planets just because; that's pretty much the answer Peter gets when he asks about it. They act like they don't care, yet one will go visit a sickly child and they'll huff and accuse him of spying on them. Which is technically true, but not the focus of the conversation.

There's a small portal in heaven that will take them wherever their hearts desire, and Peter steps in and sends himself to a little hospital in Manhattan, New York.

He keeps himself invisible to the human eye as he walks the halls into the maternity ward. There's a special room where they keep all the newborn children and that's where he goes.

Peter needs no name tag, no little blue blanket. He looks over the tiny babes and knows which hosts the atom he touched once millions of years ago. He can see its shimmer in the center of the boy's chest.

The baby is sleeping when he walks to the side of his little crib. He bends over and picks him up carefully, familiarly. This little boy has been the center of his attention as long as Peter himself has existed, and he's finally here. Warm and soft and pudgy. Tired brown eyes open and latch onto him.

"Hello, little Stark," he whispers.

All the other babes are quiet, made content by the warmth of his presence. Children of all creatures and beings are the only ones that can see through an angel's disguise, though few believe them when they point them out. At his most natural form, he's a glowing cluster of atoms and they can see and feel his peaceful energy.

The baby's hand reaches out for him and he gives him his index to hold.

"I've waited so long to meet you; I don't know what to say. Not that you can understand me." He smiles as the child slowly closes his eyes again, though his grip stays strong. "I can't stop all the bad things from happening to you, little one, but I promise you'll be loved so much one day you won't even know what to do with yourself. It's going to be very hard for a long while, but you're going to change the world and fall in love and have a baby and save the universe; you're going to be a hero."

He presses a kiss to the baby's forehead and prays.

Not to anyone specific... he already knows where this boy's life is headed, he just wishes it was an easier path.

He stays with him for a few hours, until the babies need tending and he can't force the staff to keep away.

"Goodbye for now, Tony. I love you."

Peter sets him back in the crib and leaves the hospital with a skip in his step. He's excited to watch this one little atom live its life.

And watch he does.

There are first steps, and first words, and first circuit board.

The first song, as Tony sits by his mother as she plays for him.

The first scolding, as his father tells him off for touching his whiteboard.

School is a nightmare for the young Stark, who's bored and sassy and who's attention is being demanded by his peers and teachers in an attempt to be recognized by someone with the Stark name. Some kids are overly kind and he sees right through them, and some are vicious but mostly behind his back and he hates that more.

High school's no better, of course, and he's quickly making his way to MIT. The quicker he's done with his education, the better.

That's when he meets James Rhodes and not much later he loses the butler that was as much a parent as the Starks.

Any positive is overshadowed by a negative not much later, time and time again.

Peter wants to take the young child into his arms and tell him it'll be okay. He wants to dry his tears and make everything better. But he can't do even the smallest miracle for this boy because his siblings will know and he has no idea what they'll do to him in retaliation. Instead, he watches.

The concept of a guardian angel is a little misguided since angels can't actually _do_ much. A little wish, a little comfort in the hard times, a little misdirection, and events have changed. He takes the time to wander and visit other planets, but he spends most of his time on Earth. He's particularly fond of their food (gummy candy; who thought of that masterpiece?)

Maria sits by her son in the Stark living room on a cold evening early December 1991 while Howard is off in his lab.

"Please try to be nice to your father during this trip, Anthony. It's a long drive for all of us."

"You should be telling him to be nice to me," Tony spits out. "I'm not the one with the problem."

"Anthony, please-"

"I don't even want to _go_ on this stupid trip. Why are you making me go?"

"It'll be good for both of you to be out of this house for a little while."

"I'd rather stay at home."

"I know, darling. Do this for me? Just try."

"Maybe you should tell him to try not being an asshole for once," he huffs. "Whatever, mom."

She lets out a soft sigh as her son storms out of the room.

The problem, Peter realizes, is that Tony isn't meant to be going on this trip at all.

It's a business trip to Long Island where Howard has a few meetings to attend, and Maria has convinced him to rent them a nice cabin for the winter holidays while they're in the area. She's roped her son into joining them with the promise that Howard will be busy often enough for them not be stepping on each other's toes, minus the nearly two-hour drive to and fro.

Millions of years is a long time, of course, but so far Tony Stark has lived twenty-one years and every bit of it is exactly as he remembers it. He also happens to know that Maria and Howard don't come back from this trip, Tony's presence will make no difference to the Winter Soldier.

Peter knows every scrape, every tantrum, every broken heart as if it were his own. He knows Tony is not meant to be on this trip.

As the days draw nearer to December 16th, he starts panicking.

Maria is packing her and Howard's things. Tony's throwing random pieces of clothing in the luggage his mother brings him while sipping at a flask. He's texting multiple women and that's not different.

Peter thinks about these days and tries to figure out what's _wrong_.

How come in his memories, Tony doesn't leave December 16th with his parents.

What causes him to miss out on the trip...

Oh. Oh...

Peter hovers through the Stark home, a house more like as there's little warmth in its walls.

Maria's in the master bedroom flipping through a photo album. She's praying that things will go well, Peter can hear her. If he had the freedom to save all of them, he would, but right now he needs to save Tony and he feels like this mother would agree with that choice. The father, on the other hand...

Howard is in the basement, dubbed his lab, and working hard on something or other. He's unenthusiastic about this trip and wasting away the hours already thinking about what he'll do when he's home again.

Tony's off causing trouble as is all he seems to do lately.

Peter leaves the Stark household and finds James Rhodes, living with his parents as he's taking a break after his last tour of duty with the air force.

Angels didn't start off with wings, but enough people have depicted them with some that Peter's taken a liking to them. Not to mention their efficiency; one beat of the fluffy white wings and he's flown from one side of the city to the other.

Rhodey, what Tony calls his best friend instead of his first name, is in the middle of dinner with his family.

He hates doing this, but he has to. There's no choice.

Peter touches the back of his head and he can see a thread of grey light slip out of his fingertip and into his body. It shimmies down into his lungs and takes root. Rhodey reaches back and scratches where he'd touched, but none of them can see him standing in their dining room.

He leaves hoping he's done the right thing.

Within two hours Rhodey is bed-ridden with a horrible and sudden flu, the fever has spiked high enough for his family to consider taking him to a hospital.

Unfortunately, Peter doesn't get to stick around long enough to see the results of what he's done.

Somewhere between the Rhodes and Stark homes, a blinding light crashes into him and tugs him back to his own home, a little space pocket some call heaven. When the light fades, his feet are now on light blue tiles in a big empty room. His eldest sibling, the great archangel Michael, is standing in front of him.

Michael also took their name from the humans but will change shape depending on their mood. They're currently in the form of the Na'vi people; skin a deep blue and eyes a lighter blue and sparkling. Their frowning and Peter averts his gaze.

He's in a lot of trouble.

"Peter," they start.

A long time ago the angels didn't speak; sometimes he misses those days.

"Hey, Mikey. How've you been?" He asks, trying for innocent.

"You've interfered. Again."

"I didn't mean to!" Peter protests, then corrects, "Well, yes, I meant to, but when I saw his life forever ago he's not meant to die tomorrow and it looked like he was going to so I had to do something! If I didn't-"

"Life moves on, little brother. Anthony Stark is a human like any other, no matter if you've attached yourself to his soul. You'll be spending the next decade polishing all of our weapons and armour as punishment."

"We haven't gone to war in two million years."

"Never hurts to be prepared. Once you've finished, you can go galivanting as you please, but no more interfering. If you do, the consequences are going to be much worse. Understood?"

"Yes, Michael," he mumbles.

"Go. And if you try leaving before you're finished, I'll know."

Peter drags his feet and trudges to the armoury.

The thing that Michael and the other angels won't understand is the same thing he doesn't understand; when Peter saw Tony's life all those years ago, he was meant to live to save the universe. Now it had taken Peter's interference to make sure he at least lives to his next birthday, and he's not sure what to make of that.

A decade is not an exaggeration, and as he's cleaning sword after sword, arrow after arrow, helmet after helmet, he can only think about Tony Stark and wondering if he's still alive.

He thinks he'd know if he wasn't; they're bound together. Their souls met at the start of the universe. Surely he'd have a feeling in his chest telling him that something's gone wrong. Right?

From what he remembers, James Rhodes gets sick and is nearly hospitalized right before the trip and Tony argues with his mother that he wants to stick around to make sure his friend gets better stating that he would join them later. His mother reluctantly agrees. Tony stays behind, and Maria and Howard go off on their trip, only to never make it home again. He hadn't known millions of years ago that it had been his own fault for Rhodey getting sick, but angels tend not to be visible when looking into the future and maybe that's why he hadn't seen himself.

He lets it go.

Ten years and two months later, Peter's wiping down Michael's blessed sword Glorious and finally finished with his task. He carefully sets it away and rushes out of the armoury and heads straight for the portal.

There's no reason to stop and chat with any of his siblings; ten years doesn't mean much to them and that's hardly enough time to start missing each other.

He goes to Manhattan and is instantly relieved because the Stark name is present, even if the boy isn't. There's a Stark building in New York, the name big and bold on its side. The name would be different if Tony had died with his parents, that's what would be logical. Peter searches the building but can't find him.

Instead, he tugs at the part of his grace that's linked to that one atom that makes up a part of Tony's body and follows the energy stream. Everything leaves a trace or a mark, and he can follow the one that atom left on his grace.

It takes him to a beautiful mansion in Malibu.

There's Tony and suddenly his face is wet with tears. He's alive.

There are ideas across the galaxies that angels cry crystals, or blood, or diamonds, but that's very untrue. Their tears are the same as anyone else's - a trickle of salty water.

He stands invisible in front of Tony and reaches out to that glowing atom in his chest to sees how things have played out and catch up on the ten years he's missed.

As sort of planned, Rhodey had gotten ill and had reached out to Tony for comfort (to mope, really), and Tony had stayed behind to spend time with his friend with a promise to come up to the trip a few days later (which, of course, didn't happen).

He's 31 years old now; head of Stark Industries and taking the world by storm. The weapons industry is in his hands and he unknowingly obliges to the gentle suggestions of Obadiah Stane. Peter hates the man but there's nothing he can do about that. He's hired a bodyguard, one that will become a loyal friend, and he's also hired the best assistant there is, one Virginia "Pepper" Potts. That's one long love story for the ages.

Peter draws back. Things are okay and normal, for now.

He goes back to watching over him. He's missed enough of his life already, he doesn't plan on missing any more of it.

Months and years pass not quite 'peacefully', but there's no obstacle the remaining Stark can't face.

Peter doesn't think proud covers what he feels as Tony builds a suit of metal in a cave in the middle of Afghanistan.

He cheers him on from where he's hovering nearby invisible.

It aches that he can't swoop in and make it all better, easier, less traumatizing. He knows Tony comes out of this alive, and he reminds himself of that as he struggles to hold himself back.

He takes to the sky and nudges the rescue helicopter a little, just enough to find Tony quicker. When no light drags him away, he knows it hasn't been noticed.

(He tries to tell one of his sisters about this human's accomplishments, but she stares blankly at him until he walks away.)

There's battle after battle, difficult fights and even more difficult decisions. Ironman is born and Pepper becomes CEO and the Avengers Initiative is starting to expand. That gets a little troublesome for Peter when literal gods start appearing on his little planet. They're not the same as the God that made him or his siblings, and not as powerful as the angels themselves as they're the first living beings, but they're nothing to scoff at either and the angels steer clear of them.

The earlier statement that babies and children can see an angel's true form is very true, but not the entire truth.

God's can't see their base forms, a glowing gathering of atoms called their grace, but they can see something akin to a silhouette of their magic. If Thor or Loki catches glimpse of him, they'll instantly know he isn't human and Asgard has enough stories of celestial creatures that he's fairly certain they would accurately identify what he is and that's a big no-no in the angel community.

He keeps his distance from the superheroes and the god of mischief as the city is destroyed.

Rather, he stays grounded and visible, helping the humans escape and patching up others with first aid kits found in different stores and buildings. He's allowed to do as much as a human body can do; so long as he doesn't use his angelic powers to heal or save someone's life. Properly cleaning a wound, minimizing the risk of infection, feels like it should count towards saving a life but Peter won't complain.

"Go on that way, the bridge is closed off but there's evac at the docks."

He directs people and runs around doing as much as he can with the limited abilities of this species.

There's a portal in the sky and he keeps an eye on it. He knows how this ends.

Once Tony grabs the bomb and flies through the opening, Peter slips into an alley and goes invisible. He flies to the top of a nearby building, staying clear of the god's line of vision, and watches.

He hears the explosion. The portal starts closing.

And closing... and closing... and still no Tony Stark.

"Come on, Tony, come on..."

He looks over the ledge. The Avengers are gathered together staring in anticipation. He can hear some of them praying.

"_Please, god, please... let's go, Tony..._" A wayward prayer.

He's not going to make it out in time.

"No, no, no," Peter whispers urgently.

There's no choice.

He's invisible to most of the Avengers and the humans and the Chitauri, but he knows Thor and Loki will see him but he _has_ to.

He spreads out his white wings, reaching a span of twenty feet from tip to tip. One flap and he's floating near the edge of the portal.

The gods' simply see a white form with wings and it's telling enough.

Peter reaches out and takes hold of the edge of the portal; his atoms meld into it and he keeps it in place, stalling its closure. It's subtle enough not to be obvious to onlookers. Peering inside, he sees Tony's shiny red armour free falling. It only takes a few seconds, but it's the difference between losing him or saving him. Tony falls from one side of the hole in space and into the other. Peter lets go and it closes fully.

He flies off but he knows the damage is done. He goes back to the building to overlook the Avengers and to see Tony hit the ground. Hulk goes to him, along with Steve.

Thor looks up at him with a smile and nods once. He does nothing else to acknowledge him; he simply turns back to his allies.

Once Tony's sitting up, already bantering with the other Avengers, Peter slips away from the edge with a relieved sigh. Before he has time to blink a bright light surrounds him and he's brought home once again for the second time in less than one human lifetime.

There's Michael, arms crossed and expression crosser. Peter's standing on a light blue tiled floor in a big empty room and this is familiar.

His sister Raphael is by Michael's side, in the shape of a dwarf from Nidavellir. Where Michael is the almighty archangel with a penchant for light sentences, Raphael is the second eldest archangel and sort of a hard ass. It's not uncommon for Michael to bring in Raphael to do the leg work.

"Peter," Michael starts, the uttering of his name a warning of its own. "You know what you've done."

"He's meant to live!" Peter protests. "That's what I saw! I swear, I had to-"

"Enough," Raphael interrupts. "You're tiring. A god has seen you, you've interfered and saved a human life. For this, I have a special punishment in mind for you. One that will hopefully keep this from happening again."

"Don't I get to defend myself?"

"You know the rules," Michael says.

"What if this was the right thing to do? What if this is what Father wanted? You can't say it isn't since He never talks to us!"

Michael sighs.

"We have orders, and we follow them. We are not angels, we are not benevolent, we are not saviours. We're God's soldiers, and that's our duty," Raphael says. "And that means disobedience is to be punished."

"Please, Raphael, it's just one human right? What's the harm in keeping one alive?"

He knows there's no changing her mind, but he also knows he doesn't want to deal with whatever this punishment is going to be.

"You know the answer to that already," she answers.

She takes two steps towards him and Peter knows better than to draw back or try to run away. He closes his eyes in anticipation.

One of her fingers touches the center of his forehead and the world goes dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment/Kuddos? If you wanna.
> 
> Love you loads for reading :)
> 
> PS: Stole alien races from random places. Also the angels aren't the bad guys, I promise. Just gotta keep the young'ins in check.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little interim chappie :) Enjoy!

"Peter! It's time for school! Hurry up or you'll be late."

He reaches out and slaps down on his buzzing alarm clock.

"I'm up!" he shouts back to his Uncle Ben.

He slips out of bed and shoves his glasses on the bridge of his nose so he can see far enough ahead of him to find his clothes. He throws on a pair of jeans and an old hoodie and manages to stumble his way out of his bedroom with his heavy backpack thrown over his shoulder.

"Good morning sleepyhead," May teases. She hands him a bowl of cereal and kisses his forehead.

"Mornin'."

Ben walks past in his police uniform, stopping long enough to ruffle his hair and greet him.

"I'm off, I'll be back this evening. Try not to miss me too much." He kisses a giggling May.

"We'll try our very best," she says.

He leaves their two-bedroom apartment with a smile on his face.

Peter finishes his food and shoves what he needs for class into his already full backpack. He's got some hardware in there he needs to find some matching pieces for and plans to spend an hour after class today finding his missing parts.

"Bye, May!" He kisses her cheek and rushes out the door in the hopes that he'll manage to catch the train on time.

He does, thankfully, and takes a breath from his inhaler to sort himself out after having to run the last hundred meters. As much as he enjoys school, he really doesn't enjoy the early mornings and the treks there. It's a miracle honestly that he'd gotten the full scholarship to Midtown School of Science and Technology, and he plans to do as well as he can to make May and Ben proud.

When he gets there his best friend Ned is already waiting for him. He's got a bright smile on his face and a fake nonchalance in his stance. Peter's no better. They do their special handshake and head into class. They meander through English and Chemistry and History and then P.E. School's not very exciting but it's the path to college and he suffers through it.

After class, he searches dirty dumpsters in the hopes of finding thrown out toasters or keyboards he can dissect for parts. His room is cluttered with what is essentially garbage but his aunt and uncle don't care so long as he doesn't bring in any bugs.

When he gets home with his latest find, he hoards himself in his room. Ben's home and making dinner, May's making the trek to the nearest laundromat to do a load of laundry in the meantime.

They eat, they talk about Ben's latest case and May's latest difficult patient and Peter's latest quiz. He helps with the dishes and then they sit around the living room watching TV. He's ushered to bed when it's thirty minutes passed his bedtime already because neither May or Ben are good at enforcing that particular rule. And in the morning it's rinse and repeat.

Life has an odd sense of monotony to it that Peter can never quite shake off. His life isn't boring, far from it honestly.

At fourteen years old, he gets bitten by a radioactive spider while on a trip to Oscorp which gives him amazing superpowers. He watches the news and sees Tony Stark's face and thinks maybe he can be a superhero too, but it's a little bit scary at first, and he doesn't embrace it fully right off the bat. There's the side of him that's a young teenager and says this is the best thing to ever happen to him in his short life, but then Ben risks his life every day and has the horror stories to go with it.

There's the idea of a secret identity, because would someone hurt May or Ben to get to him if word got out about these powers?

He plays around on his own time in privacy, tests his strength and new reflexes and enjoys not needing to wear glasses ever again. It's a simple lie of using contacts to hide that particular ability.

Some nights, while he sleeps, he dreams of stardust. Of little lights moving around him.

Then Ben dies and something inside of him feels broken.

He could have stopped that; he could have saved his life and he didn't because he's too much of a coward. Too weak. He's a waste of these powers.

His superhero counter-part comes to life not long after the funeral.

He really hates funerals. The memory of his parents' joint funeral hazy and distant, as if remembering through watching it play out in a film, but he knows he hated every moment of it.

Spider-Man takes on a life of his own, the better half of who he is and every day he can do a little something for someone is a good day.

Then suddenly Tony Stark is in his living room and it's... wow.

Something in him warms and he puts that down to being face to face with his childhood hero. It reminds him of when he'd found his old Ironman helmet in their storage last summer, that sense of something loved and lost found again.

Fighting in Germany is only the start. Then fighting his homecoming date's father on a plane and on a beach is another part of his regular civilian slash superhero lifestyle. Nothing is normal; nothing is boring. Every day could be seen as an adventure - a new baddie to fight, a new upgrade to his suit because now he spends time with Tony just because. His best friend envies him, and he feels like quite a few people his age would envy his situation (as they don't know the bad parts of it; watching someone die, being too slow, too careless - the crushing sense of failure).

Except he tosses and turns in his bed and always feels like he's missing something.

Or as if something's been forgotten.

There's a study that says humans are made from stardust, he reads one day while lounging in the lab waiting for Tony to come back from his necessary shower after Dum-E got a bit careless with the fire extinguisher again.

It's nice to think that the smallest parts of him existed thousands or millions of years ago out in the universe. Maybe he and Tony were made from the same star, maybe that's why it feels like there's something... _something_. Not romantic, of course, as Tony is old enough to be his father, but not necessarily familial either. Something of its own.

There's a pull in the center of his chest that's nothing like how he feels for May (all warm and cozy like hot chocolate) or how he felt looking at Liz Allen (tingly and uncomfortable but exciting like the drop in a rollercoaster) since it wouldn't be unusual for a young wannabe scientist such as himself to have a crush on the best scientist of their time but it isn't that. It's none of that.

It's soft and gentle and nostalgic and the sort of thing that people link to soulmates though as a scientist he scoffs at that idea.

Was he near May, when his atoms were shocked into existence by a supernova? Or Ben, or his parents? The idea is charming and he ponders on it.

It almost seems fantastical to think that his atoms came together from all stretches of the galaxies to be molded into one unimportant human boy. Because that monotony comes from feeling like there's more, somehow, though he can't imagine how there could possibly be anything greater than what he already has; anything more would seem uselessly extravagant.

Tony comes back as he's loading up the next study he wanted to look into, and he doesn't look up because he sensed him coming long ago.

That draw inside of him always knows where Tony is, and he wonders sometimes if he didn't have the superpowers if that would still happen. Sometimes, when he lies in bed missing that odd something, he thinks he might. That no matter where he is in the world, if he closes his eyes and walked he would find him. He wonders if Tony feels it too. If this is a young boy's odd imagination or if this bond, as he can't really call it much else, is a two-way street.

At sixteen years old, he jumps out of the bus taking him on his field trip and he tugs on his new and improved Spidersuit. He follows that draw to the park and jumps in the way of an oncoming fist about to hit his mentor.

"Hey, Mr. Stark!"

There's aliens and a wizard and a giant donut-like spaceship and his spidey sense is never going to relax.

While hanging on the side of the ship as it heads off into space, he realizes how stupid this is, but he can't help but feel like something big's about to happen.

Something bigger than going to space, that is.

There's a jittery feeling in his stomach and he taps his foot while they're standing on Titan and even as they're fighting Thanos he's waiting for _more_.

It's always more.

That feeling in his chest grows heavier once Thanos has left because yes, they've lost, but what else... there's something else.

Peter Quill fades, and his stomach clenches in fear.

His body is shaking and his spidey sense is blaring and something horrible is happening.

He stumbles.

"I... I don't want to go..."

He mumbles in Tony's arms, holding him tight, knowing what's coming but praying he's wrong.

The ground is beneath his back now, as he's gently laid down. Parts of himself fade, returning to stardust.

He stares at Tony and sees a glowing dot in his chest. While his body fades; he remembers.

A lock in the pit of his being comes undone as it crumbles into dust. What are freed are his memories. His powers. His grace.

He wants to clench his fist in rage because how dare Thanos think he can destroy an angel? Who does he think he is, to destroy half of what the angels have made?

But his powers are too fresh, too new, and the fist can't clench as it fades.

"Sorry..." he whispers because it feels too late.

His world goes dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is quite a bit longer, delving into the final battle with Peter a la angel.
> 
> Cheers!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

When the world reappears around him, he knows.

He knows and remembers everything and he is _not pleased_.

Five years have gone by. Stephen Strange is speaking and opening portals. The Guardians are gathering together and he can see the Empath give him an odd glance - she can sense his rage, probably.

He has seen Tony Stark's life; he has always known that Thanos would do this and that it would be undone. He's always hated it, but the Infinity Stones exist and it's up to the creatures of the universe to do as they see fit with them. That he would disrespect the angels' hard work is... unpleasant, but something they accept since it's destined to be fixed.

However, that he would attack an angel directly, well. That doesn't sit well with him.

Of course, he'd been Peter Parker and not the angel Peter, but that's not the point.

The point is that an angel being turned to dust by a mere Titan is insulting.

It's a little funny that the boy he'd seen grow so close to Tony millions of years ago happened to _be_ him, but he can't focus on the games of fate right now, nor his sister's decision to put him on earth as a human child as a form of punishment.

He steps through the glowing orange portal and he hardly listens as the Avengers' battle cry rings out through the destroyed field around them.

He pulls at the mark Tony's soul had left on his grace and focuses on its draw. It tells him exactly where he is, but he stays put for now.

"_You've awoken,_" his sister Raphael's words ring through his mind.

"_I have_."

"_What will you do?_"

He thinks this has been her plan all along. She's always been one of the brightest angels, the most forward-thinking. Without an archangel to back him up, his earliest inventions would never have come to be in heaven.

"_What choices do I have?_"

"_The choices that have always been there. Save Tony Stark - or let him die. It'd be a heroes death, an honourable one. They'll build monuments in his name._"

"_And his name will be in all the history books across the galaxies, but his daughter will grow up without a father._"

While he speaks to his sister, he draws back out of the fight and watches the battlefield. His hands are clenched tight and he aches to join them. His powers are swirling inside him brimming with anger and the need for justice all in one.

"_As many do._"

"_I can't. You know I can't. He's... he treated me like someone special when I was just a human boy. He is all the goodness I've ever wanted to be. I'll save him. I'll take any punishment you see fit. Will you give me time?_"

"_Tik tok._"

His right wrist burns and he looks down to see a black outline of an hourglass burned into his wrist. One side is darkened, and he watches a piece of sand float down into the empty half.

"_Your punishment will come to you once the time has run out. You have free reign to do as you wish, but all your actions will come at a cost._"

"_Thank you, sister._"

"_And little brother? Give them hell - no one lays a hand on an angel and gets to walk away._"

He smiles, and he knows he'll do just that. There's a sudden silence in his mind and he knows she's gone.

He looks back at his wrist and a second piece of sand has moved. There's no telling how much time this actually is; an hour, fifteen minutes, thirty seconds. All he knows is he needs to act quickly.

Peter follows the draw in his chest and his eyes glow a soft white as he glimpses through the people to find Tony. He's fighting Thanos and knows what to expect.

"I am... inevitable."

For what's to come, he feels it more appropriate to be in his angel regalia rather than his Spider-Man suit. This isn't something Peter Parker would condone, but he's an angel; standards of morality are a little shifted. He won't tarnish the name of the superhero by what he's about to do, even if that superhero is himself.

He touches his chest; the Ironspider and the traditional red and blue suit beneath it fade, moved to Tony Stark's lab. He probably won't be needing them anymore anyway. He's back in his t-shirt and jeans that he'd been wearing on the way to his field trip, minus shoes because he needed to kick those off to get into the suit. As Peter Parker, he'd feel guilty for tossing aside a pair of good twenty dollar shoes, since he'd hate having to ask May for another pair, now it seems so unimportant.

He double-taps his chest again and the outfit changes. The glow catches the eyes of a few people, good guys and bad guys as he sees them, and some stop to stare.

Angels don't use armour, aside from helmets and that's mostly occasionally. They rely on their strength and powers and deem needing additional protection a weakness. A white short-sleeved tunic flows over his upper body, cinched at the waist by a wide black belt. White pants reach his ankles, loose and flowy. He doesn't bother replacing his shoes, walking barefoot instead.

Large fluffy white wings sprout from his back and he flaps them once.

From one end of the battlefield to the other in a second.

"I am... Ironman!"

He lands in front of a kneeling Tony, arm up and veins multi-coloured from the power of the stones. His wings withdraw and their eyes meet.

Peter shoves his hand against the palm of the gauntlet, stopping him from snapping.

"Hey, Tony," he greets him cheerfully. He looks over his shoulder at a fuming Thanos and waves his hand in the air. "Stop." The world around them freezes.

Tony stares, mouth agape.

"What..." he mumbles.

Everyone is suddenly stock still, some in half steps or mid-blink and it's clear time has frozen for all but the two of them.

"First, let's get this thing off of you," Peter says. He slips the gauntlet from his hand and sets it by his side. Tony is too stunned to stop him. He takes the injured hand in his and closes his eyes briefly, letting his powers float into him to heal the wounds caused by the stones. When it's done, he doesn't let go of his hand. It's calloused and scarred, and it's an anchor.

Tony turns his arm over until he can see the hourglass more clearly. "What's...?"

"I'm on the clock here, and I don't have much time, but I need you to know this." Tony's gaze meets his. "Every second since I met you has been genuine. I didn't remember what I was and truly believed myself to be Peter Parker, but all the respect and admiration I had for you, every time I said I wanted to be like you when I grow up, that was all true, all real. That Peter still exists in me, just... He was just a bit more naive, younger. But we're one and the same. I don't know what's going to happen to me after this, but I need you to know nothing was a lie. I care about you and I love you."

He speaks calmly. Resigned to his fate.

"What are you?" Tony asks cautiously. His intelligent gaze takes in the clothing, the slight silvery sheen around his body a reflection of his powers, and of course the blatant use of magic.

"An angel. Literally, not just in personality." He goes for a smile that isn't returned. Tony's been deceived too often. "I did something against the rules a few years ago. As punishment, my sister locked away my powers and my memories and left me here on earth to live as a human. Getting superpowers was likely not in the plan, but I'm not surprised that we found our way to each other anyway."

"Um, I..."

Peter reaches forward and touches the center of his chest. The hourglass on his wrist is ticking. Not a quarter empty yet, there's time. He draws his finger back and on its tip is a little glowing dot.

"When I was created at the very start of the universe, I knew nothing other than my mission which was to create the galaxies with my siblings. The very first thing I did with my existence was to reach out and touch this atom. This singular, tiny atom showed me the life of Anthony Edward Stark and is now resting inside of you millions of years later. That's when we were bonded and I swore to myself I would live to be as inspiring as you. As groundbreaking. As selfless. And I told myself I would do everything in my power to keep you alive. Here we are at the end of the road, Tony, and I'm going to do just that."

He places the atom back in its place. He'd made it glow for emphasis, but it's small enough not to cause any damage with its temporary removal.

"I... but you can't-" he sputters, at a loss for words. "What's happened? Am I dreaming? Fuck, what did those rocks do to me?"

"Nothing, Tony. This is all very real and I've lived a very long just to be in this spot. I don't know what you're thinking; if you hate me. If you think I tricked you or lied to you. I hope you can forgive me. All I've wanted is to save you..." he releases a long breath, "I can't hold this any longer. I'm sorry."

Peter takes the gauntlet in his arms and stands. He waves his hand in the air.

Time unfreezes.

Tony stands and takes a hesitant step, "Look, whatever this is... You can't take on Thanos, that stuff's dangerous, let me-"

"It's okay, Tony," Peter says softly.

"I can't lose you again."

"You won't. I swear it."

Tony's face is stricken and he forces himself to turn to face the Titan.

He walks forward to put some distance between them, in case Tony should try anything in an unnecessary attempt to protect him. Thanos stands not far before him with his arms ready to strike and his eyes focused on the gauntlet. Everything around them slows; everyone fixates on the two of them.

Peter locks eyes with his enemy and slowly extracts each individual stone using his bare hands. He doesn't flinch as there's no pain. No colours trace up his arm. Their power means nothing to him. When all six are released, he throws aside the gauntlet. He holds them in front of him, cupping one of the worlds most powerful set of weapons in the palm of his hands.

"I believe this is what you're looking for?"

"I've never seen a thing like you before. What are you?"

Peter moves the stones into one hand and waves the other, opening a series of small portals. The stones float through back to their proper place in time. Good riddance.

"You've upset the angels, Thanos."

"Angels? Don't be preposterous. They're children's tales to make people believe there is something more than the gods."

As much as Thanos belives himself the true 'God', he isn't one. He is just a being like any other and can't see Peter for what he truly is. Unlike Thor, standing in his peripheral with a wide grin.

"Believe what you will. I'm older than the planet you stand on; I _made_ the planet you stand on! And the angels don't take kindly to you making the universe your playground when we spent a very long time making it a place worth protecting. You have no idea of the wars we've raged to keep this universe stable and alive," Peter snaps. His voice carries though he isn't shouting.

"You talk too much for a little boy. No matter what you've done with the stones, I _will_ find them. I am inevitable, and my army will destroy yours."

"But can it destroy me?" He grins.

His body expands, his human shape fades and all that stands in his place is a glowing cluster of atoms holding in his angelic grace. People shield their eyes and look away. Thanos squints but keeps his gaze on him in stubborn strength. He floats over and stops a couple of inches from him. His human shape reappears, but his feet don't touch the ground.

"Sit!" He orders and a pulse of light bursts from his chest and pushes Thanos back.

The earth behind him has risen into a stool-like shape and he's forced to sit upon it. His hands fall into his lap and he tugs but they won't come free.

"Turn." He shoves his foot against the side of Thanos' leg and he spins in place to face the opposing armies.

"What - how are you doing this?" Thanos growls. His strength has always been enough to fight against magic, but not this time.

"You'll be dead before you'll fully grasp the foolishness of disrespecting the angels, but the least I can do is make you watch as your army falls."

His wings spread out. He's somewhere between Peter Parker, human and superhero, and the shape of glowing light that represents his grace. The outpouring of magic is making it difficult to keep the human shape in one piece.

He beats his wings once and takes to the skies.

All of the beings, human and chitauri and miscellaneous races from all over the galaxies, are staring up at him in anticipation for what he'll do next. Even the enemy have stilled, made frightened by his overpowering of their leader.

He holds out his right hand and Glorious appears. Michael won't mind him borrowing their sword.

The hilt itself is several inches of intricately woven silver designed with wings, and the blade is nearly two feet long made from stardust pressed together into a nearly indestructible metal special to the angels. It won't work as well for him as it would his sibling, but it'll do the job as the conduit he needs.

He lifts it above his head and the blade starts to glow a bright white. He pushes his power into the weapon and it absorbs it readily.

In seconds, it's strengthened enough.

He takes the hilt in both hands and spins the weapon, shifting from one hand to the other. It spins and spins, the blade moving dizzyingly fast.

Beams of light start launching from it until it looks like a downpour of sudden thunder.

Each strike lands on one of the enemy and they burst into dust on impact without a second to scream. He wills it to dodge his allies, or more accurately, Peter Parker's allies.

Dozens, hundreds, fall beneath him all while Thanos watches.

People turn in a circle, wondering if they'll be next. Some start to run; they're struck and their ashes float slowly down to the broken earth. There's fear and prayers. He feels and hears it but it's all ignored. They chose the wrong side of this battle. He stopped Tony from Snapping them all away and he has to clear up the mess left behind.

His breath starts coming in heavy and he's starting to slow. He only stops once all of the enemy, all those that followed Thanos into this fight, are gone leaving only their leader behind.

The blade stops spinning. His arms fall to his sides and he sends the sword back to the armoury where it will hopefully not be used for another two million years. He hovers to the ground, landing between Tony and Thanos. His body has lost most of its glow, the human shape taking over in his increasingly exhausted state. Only one last thing to do. He looks at his wrist; one-third of his time left.

Thanos is still seated. His expression is pinched, his muscles are strained as he's trying desperately to get himself free. His army has faded around him and he's all that's left of his ideals and beliefs.

"No. _No_!" Thanos shouts defiantly at him.

"Kneel," Peter orders.

Against his wishes, Thanos falls from the stool and onto his knees with a thud and a scowl.

"You've angered the angels, Thanos."

"You should be thanking me. The world is overpopulated, the people too greedy. I'm fixing-"

"Nothing!" Peter cuts him off. "You are fixing nothing! Shut up."

Lines of black thread pierce through his lips from one side to the other, keeping his mouth closed. Blood drips down his chin.

"You've angered many people, not just the angels. However, I believe there's someone who deserves your head more than I do."

Peter glances at Tony and shoots him a smile.

His mentor is pale. There's a tinge of grey in his hair that wasn't there five years ago. When he saw his life play out, he had seen his life end here; everything from this point onward is a mystery. He has a whole life ahead of him now, even if Peter can't have a part in it.

He looks over the field and finds the god he's looking for. Thor stands in his Asgardian armour, tall and proud. As he sees Peter approach, he takes to one knee in respect, his ax set across his thigh.

Peter reaches down and places his hands on Thor's. He tugs him back to his feet.

"Don't kneel for me. I'm not special enough for that," he grins and Thor returns it.

"As you wish."

"I leave you Thanos. He's going to have a very exciting eternity ahead of him in hell, and I believe you're fit to send him on his way."

"You'd give me the honour?" Thor asks.

"I can't bring back your brother or your people, but I can give you closure." As powerful as the angels are, they can't bring people back to life without causing more problems than they're trying to fix.

"Thank you," he says and there's a light in his eyes that's been missing since he'd lost what was left of his family.

Thor walks around him to the kneeling Thanos. He stands by his side like an executioner and looks briefly over to Peter.

"Should we give him last words?"

"He's spoken enough."

Thor nods. He lifts up his ax.

The head rolls a couple of feet away, eyelids open and mouth stained red. Peter's magic releases and the body slumps to the ground. Thor holds his ax in one hand and the blade's edge is bloody.

Peter turns from the corpse toward Tony.

He wants to rush into his arms and cry and get a final hug before he has to go. Or whatever is going to happen to him when the hourglass empties. He looks at it; one-quarter left. Maybe one-fifth. Not much time left at all.

He knows there's one last thing he can do before his time is up. Maybe he wants to take these minutes for himself, but he can't. Not yet.

"I'll be right back," he tells Tony. "I... just give me a minute. I'll be back."

He opens a portal and jumps through before Tony can respond, though he spots him reaching out for him before it winks out of existence.

The keeper of the soul stone stares blankly at him, unsurprised and unperturbed by his sudden appearance.

"You got your stone; I want that soul back. A fair trade."

"The soul is free for return. The body, however..."

"Let me take care of that."

"Then the soul is yours."

Peter jumps off the ledge and hovers to the bottom of the cliff.

Her body is still there, surrounded by dried blood and cold. Her hair and skin are tinged with dirt. Dust had risen when she'd crashed into the earth and it's fallen over her. He takes her hand in his and lets his powers flow through her. The broken bones realign, her cracked skull is healed, her blood is replenished and her body is made like new.

Perhaps he can't bring people back from the dead; he has no rights to souls once they've been reaped, but should a soul be prepared to return to its body he's certainly capable of rendering it livable.

Her eyes snap open and they flick over to him. There's familiarity in her gaze. She's seen his image on screens, naming the people that were lost five years ago.

"Time to go home, Natasha."

She's tired and confused from what she's experienced. She doesn't push back against him as he lifts her and puts her arm around his shoulders. He carries her forward through the portal he opens to take them both home.

_Tik tok_.

Not much time left at all.

"Nat!" Clint calls out as he spots his best friend.

The portal fades behind him and they're standing in the middle of the destroyed battlefield.

Her weight is removed from his side and she's pulled into her friend's arms. He's not concerned about her now, she's where she should be.

Now that all of his self-appointed tasks are complete, he focuses on Tony. He's passed the one-fifth mark in his hourglass, and it's fading quick.

"Tony, Mr. Stark, I..."

"C'mere, kid."

He's pulled into a tight hug. He wraps his arms around Tony's waist and burries his face against his chest.

At times, he feels his millions of years old. He's ancient, older than most everything else in the universe, and some days he feels like he's losing his mind. Or like that grumpy old man shouting at kids to get off his lawn. There's little he hasn't seen in his lifetime. Wars, been there, won them. Peace, love it when it happens. Death, there's the stupid and the sad and the welcomed end for some.

Right now he feels all of sixteen years old.

He's tired, his powers are drained, and he's done with being an angel for now. He's content to be Peter Parker, a kid in need of support and reassurance that Tony is happily supplying.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he mumbles, eyes burning with unshed tears.

"Sh, kiddo. It's okay. Thank you for bringing her home." Tony grabs his right arm and pulls it away from around him so that he can see the symbol burnt into his wrist. "What happens when this runs out?"

"I don't know," he admits. He draws back only far enough to meet his gaze, "My sister could do anything. But it's okay, I knew she would. I wanted to save you and I knew it was going to come at a cost. I'm probably not going to see you again, so just... tell Morgan I say hi. I wish I'd met her. And I'm sorry I don't have time to tell you everything. And tell May I'm sorry. I don't know if the magic wore off on her too, she might not even remember me, I'm not sure. And... and..."

He takes a step away and watches anxiously as the third to last grain of sand moves to the other half of the hourglass.

"I need you to know I love you, and I've loved you for a very long time and I've only ever wanted you to be happy and to live your life. I think I still knew that, even as Peter Parker. I named myself after him, isn't that funny? Because we're the same person, but I didn't know that at the time. Since I saw your life, not mine. Um." He blinks and his eyelashes are wet.

Tony hugs him again, his own grip tight like he could keep him safe against the angels by sheer force of will.

"It's okay, Peter, it's okay. I love you, too. We'll figure this out, okay?" One hand is at the back of his head, fingers curled in his hair.

"I don't want to go," Peter says. He chokes back a sob, still trying to appear like the powerful being he is, even if he feels mostly like the teenager he's been for the past six or so years (minus the five he hadn't been alive to experience).

He'd felt this same pain as Peter Parker, thinking he was dying on a planet somewhere out amongst the stars. He wasn't ready to go then, and he isn't ready now.

Tony softly shushes, trying to calm him as his grip only tightens.

His wrist burns as the final bit of sand falls to the other half of the hourglass.

A bright light pierces through the clouds and strikes him like a bolt of lightning. It blinds those nearest to him and Tony's forced to let go when his body grows hot to the touch and he can't keep him in his arms without injuring himself.

Peter's body floats a few feet from the ground and he glows as the light covers him making him nearly impossible to see. His wings reappear and stretch out behind him. Everyone takes a couple of steps back, peering through squinted eyes and around their hands to try and see what's happening. Suddenly the whitish glow turns red. His scream echoes through the battlefield and his wings are engulfed in flames.

Wind starts circling around him and increases the height and strength of the fire, looking nearly like an inferno that's somehow keeping some control. The ashes of his wings float in the wind along with dirt and rocks. The light itself appears to move and he's a tornado of red and white glowing danger that's too thick to see through.

Then it's over, maybe only seconds later. The light recedes, the wind stills, the fire simmers into nothing, the dust settles, and Peter falls to the ground with a thud.

"Peter!" Tony rushes to his side and crouches beside him. He throws off his armoured glove and presses along his neck to feel for a pulse. He's back in his dorky science t-shirt and jeans and there's no blood on him, but his eyes are closed and the wings are gone. He finds one; steady, strong. "Hey, kiddo, come on, up and at 'em. Enough messing with my heart condition for one day, okay?"

He moves Peter's right arm until he can see his wrist, and the hourglass marking is gone.

He searches the field for a doctor, managing to lock eyes with Stephen still a ways away. He lifts a hand to wave him over and calls out, "Hey, Doc, a little help?"

Stephen portals himself to his side.

People's focus shifts, walking and searching around for their friends and family's now that what appears to be the worse is over. Thor is near him still, with what remains of Thanos, and Pepper and Rhodey land close by. They're watching over him anxiously, but don't move to step in.

"That was... an experience," Stephen says hesitantly. "I didn't see that coming. However, the boy will be just fine. Give him a minute."

"Did you know he was..."

"No, but I've read about them. Unfortunately, like Thanos, I didn't truly believe they existed. Your boy is full of surprises."

Peter's eyes flutter open. Tony's attention shifts from the sorcerer to his kid.

"Pete, kiddo? Can you-"

He sits up abruptly, nearly knocking his head into Tony's.

"Mr. Stark!"

Peter stares at his hands in wonder. He looks over his legs and reaches up to touch his face, fingers pressing against his cheeks and curling into his hair. His eyes are wide and full of confusion. He smiles as he touches along his body, seeming surprised.

"I'm... I'm still - well no, but sort of?"

There's no voice in his head to confirm his thoughts, but he knows.

"I get to stay, Mr. Stark, I get to stay!" He throws his arms around his mentor, landing half in his lap.

Tony returns the hug, "Are you okay? Are you in any pain?" He can still hear his scream echoing in his head.

"I'm fine. Sore, but fine. I'm allowed to stay, isn't that awesome? I think that's awesome, do you think it's... are you mad? I don't have to stay like, around you, if you're-"

"Shush, kid. Of course I'm not mad. Confused as all hell, but not mad."

He inhales sharply to shove down the overwhelming flood of emotions though a few normal salty human tears slip out of his burning eyes anyway. He sniffs.

"I didn't mean to lie to you."

"Not a lie if you don't know the truth, Pete. Come on, get up. I need to make sure you're not still on fire."

Tony manages to tug himself out of Peter's ironclad grip and pulls them both to their feet. Peter stares up at him with a wide and sincere gaze and Tony can't imagine that he's ever been dishonest in his life. Even if it's a longer life than Tony had been lead to believe. He looks him up and down and is relieved to see he appears uninjured and not currently ablaze.

"Is he - are you alright, Peter?" Pepper asks kindly, stepping closer.

"I'm great, super great."

Tony tucks him into his side with an arm around his shoulders and Peter wraps his arms around his waist. He spots Natasha, close by and surrounded by some of the other Avengers. They share a smile and he feels a joyous flutter in his stomach. She's alive. He's got his Spider-boy back. Thanos is gone and the universe is saved.

He leans forward and rests his forehead against Peter's temple. He's a bit lost, too.

"The stones, what did you do with them?" Stephen asks.

"Gone. Back where they came from. Since the soul stone was returned, I was allowed to bring Natasha back."

"I see."

"You've lost your spark," Thor comments.

"Yes," Peter says, "My grace is gone."

"And that means...?" Tony prompts.

"It means I'm human and very mortal and won't be getting off this planet until I die. So you're stuck with me. I mean, if that's okay." Peter pulls back and examines his expression searchingly.

"Wouldn't I be stuck with you anyway?" Tony teases.

"Well. Yes. But you know, without my powers it means you have to stop getting yourself into messes, okay? I've still got Spidey powers, but that's no guarantee I'll be able to keep you alive."

"Been saving my ass a lot, have you?"

"You don't make it easy when you go around putting on all-powerful gauntlets."

"Touché."

"You were the angel who saved him when we fought the chitauri," Thor says with an air of understanding as the memory comes back to him.

"Guilty," Peter quips with a smile.

"What'd you do?" Tony asks.

"You would have been eaten by the portal if I hadn't kept it open for you a bit longer. That's when my sister locked my memories and powers and put me on earth. I was thinking it was weird since you were the reason I got into trouble in the first place so why put me here? But I think she knew I'd find my way to you anyway, so it was easier to leave me close to you."

"How many times have you saved me without me knowing it?"

"Three total, and looks like third time's the charm. When I saw your life I saw you die here, which means I have no idea what's going to happen from here on out. It's kind of exciting."

He _is_ excited; it's the first time in a long while. Life gets boring when there's not much to do other than observe. But now things are new and unexplored and he's going to get to grow up in a way angels don't get to experience.

"And then what? You go back to being an angel when you..." Tony can't say 'die'.

"No, I don't think so. Everyone has an ending, even the angels. My life started with you, Tony Stark, and it's going to end with you too. I wouldn't want it any different."

"But you live a good fifty years after I kick the bucket or else I'll find you in the afterlife and ground you forever."

"Deal."

"I'm not following," Rhodey cuts in. "Like - at all."

"Oh, you're not the only one," Pepper says. She turns to Rhodey and whispers loud enough for them to hear, "But let's bother them after they have their moment. Tony's been mourning long enough."

"I waited millions of years for you, I think you can survive waiting five years for me," Peter tells Tony, tone gentle to tease. It's different, he understands that, and it's warming that he'd been mourned at all.

"It's not waiting if I didn't know you were coming back," Tony says softly.

"How old are you, exactly?" Rhodey asks, still very confused.

"Sixteen," Peter answers.

"And how long have you been sixteen?" Tony asks in a fake serious tone.

Peter groans like the typical mortified teen, "Nooo, you're way too old for Twilight references! I'm too old for Twilight references!"

Tony laughs and simply pulls him into another hug.

"You know, since I'm _technically_ older than you, does that make you my padawan?"

"I don't know what that means, but I'm going to go with a big _no_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo! I meant for this to be out forever ago but was super sick this week. Started up the last chappie, it'll be short and mostly just to wrap things up :)
> 
> It's so therapeutic to write Thanos getting his ass whooped.
> 
> I'd love to hear your thoughts!!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The finale :)

The world isn't okay.

Far from it; it's not easy to fit in billions of people in a world that had slowly adapted to having half its population.

The angels know it will get better. Beings with thoughts and wishes and hopes and dreams - they survive, no matter the obstacles. They persevere and move on from the worst. It'll take time, but in a few generations the Snap, or Blip, or Devastation, whatever people call it, will become a story. In many generations, it'll become a fairy tale.

For the next generation, it'll be a bad nightmare.

For this generation, it's their lives.

The battlefield slowly clears out. People take home their wounded and dead and there's the task of spreading the news that the Mad Titan is dead and the universe is restored. There's a celebration amongst the Avengers in the return of their friend and the knowledge that another death had been prevented.

"Thanks for bringing me home, little spider," Natasha says.

"It was the right thing to do," Peter deflects.

The Avengers disperse. Clint and Scott return to their families, but the others are sent to the old Tower which is still theirs though has been out of use for quite some time. The compound isn't exactly fit for service right now. Bruce knows what to do to get things going, and Natasha, Thor, Valkyrie, Sam, Steve, and Bucky follow his lead.

Tony has Stephen open a portal back to his cabin because there's work to do but he wants to see his daughter. Peter, Pepper, and Rhodey follow him through.

Pepper had been at home when the battle started, and she'd left Morgan with Happy to take her part. Before they can step foot into the cabin Morgan is running out to greet them with an exasperated Head of Security trailing after her. Tony pulls her into his arms and turns to introduce her to her big brother.

It had been a little confusing when Tony had started referring to Peter Parker as their daughter's brother, but she gets it now. No matter how confused she might still be about angels and magic, she knows her husband is alive because of Peter's devotion. There's a bond between them she can't explain and she might never fully understand it, but she's grateful to it.

"It's so nice to meet you, Morgan!"

The five-year-old is ecstatic. Her parents are home, here's her brother and her Uncle Rhodey. She's never met Peter, but she knows everything there is to know about him. Her daddy loves him an awful lot.

Happy stops to give Peter a brief hug, a bit teary-eyed. No one chatters as well as Spider-man, even the five-year-old. He pulls Tony aside, leaving Pepper and Rhodey to talk to the kids. Tony takes the few steps but his eyes are on Peter.

"So, I, uh, I got a call from May," Happy whispers.

"Great, I'll send a jet to pick her up somewhere."

"Way ahead of you, but not the point. She... she was saying some weird stuff. Really weird stuff."

"Like?"

"She seems to think that Peter isn't her nephew," Happy says with a confused frown. "I don't know if the coming back to life thing messed with her head, or -"

"Ah, no, not quite. We'll talk to her when she gets here."

"You know what's going on?"

"Sort of. There's... stuff to talk about. We'll go over it all when she gets here. Right now I'm sure the kid's in need of sustenance and a nap."

"Are we talking about Peter or you?" Happy jokes.

They make their way into the cabin. Morgan gives Peter a tour and Tony follows after them, unwilling to let him out of his sights yet. Pepper and Rhodey settle in the kitchen to make some dinner while Happy works on his phone.

"There's so much that needs to be done," he bemoans, watching a live news report.

"Let's focus on our own little home first," Pepper says. They've all changed out of their suits, but she has a smudge of dirt on her jaw and her hair is up in a messy bun. None of them have taken the time for a shower yet. She whispers, "I can't believe he's back. That they're all back."

"If Peter thought Tones was overbearing before..." Rhodey teases.

Once they've finished their tour, Peter sets Morgan on a kitchen stool next to Happy and he and Tony head outside. After somehow convincing the littlest Stark to stay put.

"We're going to head out and wait for May. It shouldn't be long," Tony whispers to Pepper, kissing her cheek on his way out.

"Take your time," she tells him.

This home isn't new to Peter, he'd seen it in the visions of Tony's life.

He'd seen him tuck in Morgan, night after night. Tony cheers for his daughter when she takes her first steps towards her mother and when she says 'dada' for the first time. He holds her when she cries and shushes away the bad dreams. He blames himself when she comes inside with a scrape on her arm from tripping because he should have been watching her more carefully. He stares at his phone while sitting on the bed he shares with his wife and the automated system in his voicemail prompts him to select to either replay or delete the last played message.

Peter's voice pours into his room as he presses two for replay. Again and again.

He sees him painting the cabinets and oiling the door hinges. He sees him unpack boxes one after another, going from a ninety story building to a four bedroom cabin. He sees him set a bed in one of the spare rooms and then carefully places some of Peter's belongings across the shelving and in the closet and dresser drawers.

He's seen these five years and has always known there is a room for Peter Parker.

He'd never known that that room was his own, too.

The woods and the dock and the lake are all familiar. He recognizes Morgan's tent and toys strewn outside.

Yet it all feels new, finally getting to see it all for himself and knowing that he belongs here.

Tony takes him out to the lakeside. He stares out across the water and crosses his arms over his chest.

"How you holding up?" Tony asks. "Should I get you looked over by a doctor?"

"No, I'm fine. It hurts, a bit, but it'll be okay."

"You were on fire."

"That doesn't mean much for angels."

"But you're human now. Right?"

"Right. But the fire was before I was human. So. All good."

"If you say so, kiddo. Here she comes; I think we've got a long chat ahead of us."

The jet that Happy sent to get May Parker lands close enough to the cabin for a quick walk, but hidden by trees and out of direct sight. They walk over to meet her halfway.

She's there, dressed in the work uniform she'd been wearing five years ago and her expression is wary. Peter takes two steps towards her but she doesn't move to close the distance between them. He looks down at his feet while she eyes him cautiously.

There's a drawn out moment of silence before May finally speaks out.

"Who are you?" She asks.

"I'm Peter," he responds quietly.

"I don't have a nephew. I've never _had_ a nephew. Mary and Richard didn't have a baby and then you're in my home and - and..." she trails off. She's tried to talk herself down, tried to take Happy's reassurances to heart, but she's frightened because this kid appeared in her home one day out of the blue and until now she'd never questioned it.

"The magic wore off," Peter mumbles for Tony to hear.

"Right. Why don't we head inside and we can talk? I promise there's an explanation. I don't know the full story, but it's not as horrible as you think."

She's still hesitant, but she does follow them back to the cabin. She follows close to Tony and keeps her distance from Peter. It's Tony's nonchalance that has her willing to be obedient. Her eyes dart to the boy she's so far known to be her nephew but is now a stranger.

Rhodey takes Morgan outside, though she puts up a fuss. She wants to spend time with Peter and May.

Peter runs a hand through his sister's hair and smiles softly, "Don't worry, Morrie, we'll be playing lots soon. We just have to get the boring adult stuff out of the way first."

She pouts, but accepts it.

They settle in the living room. May takes a separate seat, Happy grabbing a kitchen chair to sit near her, and Tony sits between Peter and Pepper on the sofa. It's awkward and silent for a good stretch of time until Tony sighs and takes the lead.

"A lot of things have happened and we'll do our best to get you up to speed."

"Sure."

Peter takes in a huge breath and tells them the full story, starting with his creation up to saving Tony only a couple of hours earlier. He elaborates on what he'd already shared with Tony and fills in gaps for Pepper. Happy and May are both hearing all of it for the first time and the skepticism is obvious. They share a look, wondering if something had gone on during that battle that they weren't privy to.

Although, somehow, it makes sense to May.

"They left you with me and Ben because... we were convenient? We just happened to be around?"

"I won't pretend to know why my sister does anything that she does. She chose you for a reason; I could make guesses but I can't say for certain why. I believe she wanted to keep me in New York to be close to Tony, but why she chose the Parker's, I don't know."

"So you're not my family. You just lived in our home and - and...That's so-" May doesn't finish. It's an invasion of privacy, there's no sugar-coating it. Having their memories altered to accept this stranger as a member of their family is violating, and unnerving still is the knowledge that there are beings with that kind of power to begin with.

"It's true that I'm not who you thought I was, but I didn't know that either. To me, you were my aunt and I loved you and I never meant to deceive you like this. I still love you. I know we can't go back to how things were before, I can't go back to pretending I don't know my history or how I ended up here, but I'm human now and according to the paperwork I'm Peter Parker. I'd like to keep that name if you'd let me?"

May crosses her arms over her chest and leans back. She's eyeing him cautiously.

The grief of losing Mary and Richard still stings. She remembers that she and Ben were babysitting Peter while they were away and eventually never making it home. She remembers holding the young boy as he cried. She remembers the joint funeral.

Now she knows none of that is real; they're false memories planted in her head, a fake life that never happened.

When she looks back, going through her memories, she can actually recall two different lives; one where Peter exists and one where he doesn't. Then the two streams of memories converge at some point in 2012 when the young angel is left at their home for real. Those days with Peter had truly happened and the love she'd felt for him in those years is still there.

Nights of doing puzzles with Peter in the living room while Ben hides the final piece to make them turn over the furniture looking for it actually happened. Ben's funeral where Peter's tears and grief were genuine. His first crush and his first date. Finding out about Spider-man and the subsequent breakdown.

One day Tony Stark appears at her door looking for her nephew and now she has his phone number saved in her contacts because she's a Parker by name and nothing's ever simple with the Parkers.

"I..." she starts. She lets out a sigh, "I'll need some time to wrap my head around all of this angel and magic stuff, but you're not the one who did this. Right now you're sixteen and human and maybe I didn't have a nephew before, but I do now. You're still going to need a place to stay to finish high school and I have no intention of kicking you out."

"Really?" Peter asks uncertainly.

"So long as there's no more life-changing secrets, we should be okay."

She stands and walks over to him. She tugs him off the couch and into her arms.

"I love you, Peter."

"I love you, too, May."

He isn't actually sixteen, he has years and years of lifetime May can't beging to imagine, but he's still Peter Parker. He's still her nephew. She'd always thought they were tied together by Ben and the Parker name, but even after his death she had never seen him as anything but her family. This isn't different. What's been done to her doesn't sit well in her stomach, of course, but it wouldn't be fair to put the blame on Peter.

Knowing he'd ended up in her home because he'd chosen to save Tony's life is the least surprising thing about all that he's told her. There'd always been something drawing them together that May had never understood, even after learning about the superhero connection. She'd always thought, privately, that they were something akin to soulmates.

There's so much ahead of them now - they have no home, no money, nothing. But at least they have each other. They have the Starks.

At the start of the universe, there was nothing.

Peter isn't going to live to see the end of the universe as his siblings will. Instead, he'll grow with an aunt that loves him. He'll see his baby sister grow up and become the fiercest Stark. He'll spend decades with the father figure he's loved for millions of years.

He's going to die someday, but mortality is just another adventure and he's looking forward to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> This story was a couple of different thoughts mashed together and I hope you all enjoyed it :)
> 
> I'm thinking a Field Trip fic next because for some reason that's not in my repertoire yet. Who knows!
> 
> Have a super duper day :)

**Author's Note:**

> Cheers and have a super duper day!
> 
> (Please leave a comment if you'd like :) or hit that kuddos button!)


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